An occupational hazard Within the release and joyfulness of writing lurk the downsides: the tyranny of always thinking or observing, the demand to improve, the pressing to write when the mood strikes. Perhaps one above all, and definitely for me at least, is the comparing of my writing to that of others and whether it matches up good, or good enough, or not so good at all.
Indeed, all of the above, and particularly the last, are occupational hazards, just like every occupation has its hazards and we as writers we must accept them. Having said that, whenever I read a book I find myself subconsciously, and often consciously, comparing my writing to his/hers/theirs, and coming with it that my own falls short in something or some things, in description, in characters, in plot, in narrative, in drama. It is at such times that I make myself stop worrying about others and bring myself back to the release and joyfulness of my own writing and why I do it and why to not care what readers think of it and just let the words fall where they may within my own demands of doing my best.
